


Ride to Beat the Devil

by viewingcutscene



Category: Preacher (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Angry Sex, Coen Brothers, Drug Use, Genesis - Freeform, M/M, The Word of God
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 15:12:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7513010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viewingcutscene/pseuds/viewingcutscene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cassidy thinks Jesse hung the moon, and shits sunshine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ride to Beat the Devil

A blue cloud of smoke hazed Cassidy’s head, as he lay back against the couch cushion.Cheap incandescent lamps lit him from behind, like a grimy saint.“That’s some good shite, that is.” He put his feet in Jesse’s lap, and wriggled his long toes, sighing. 

“The movie? Or the pot?” Jesse asked, shoving the feet off his lap to hit the plank flooring with a bony thump.

“The- Jaysus, Mary and Joseph, the movie.This-“ Cassidy waved the roach in the air, “is so bad Pepe le Pew would try to mate wit’ it, you know what I mean? It’s that skunky.”He chased another drag down with the last of the rye in his glass.The ice had melted somewhere around the second or third drink.

“That hasn’t stopped you from nursing it for the last forty-five minutes,” Jesse said, snatching the stub from him.The cherry scorched his fingertips as he inhaled and, letting the smoke fill his lungs and float up the back of his nose, Jesse threw the butt into Cassidy’s empty glass.His friend raised his expressive eyebrows to the hairline, but said nothing.“You ever been to North Dakota, Cass?”Stale or not, the weed was powerful - stolen, most like, from the Toadhouse, where Quincannon’s men had the best of everything a shithole like Annville had to offer.

“Aye, I went through Fargo once oh, about… ten, fifteen years ago, maybe? Ye barely even notice, to be honest, I was in Minnesota before I’d even realized it. Not even a bloody sign, you know? Steve Buscemi died here. I was that incensed to learn later you can take your photo with the fecking woodchipper.”

Cass could go on in this vein for quite some time without any input from another human soul, so Jesse reached over for the pack of smokes on the coffee table - Cass’s feet were back in his lap, apparently - and put a cigarette between his lips.He looked around for the lighter, to dimly realize - what was in that joint? - Cassidy was holding it, manically flicking it on and off to illustrate some arcane point of Coen lore.

“Cass,” Jesse said slowly, his eyes following the orange flame. On. Off. On. Off. On off on off on.

“Yeah, Jess?”

“Give me that.”

“Tha- oh, right! Sorry mate.”Cassidy passed over the light, steel warm from his hand.Jesse laid it on the coffee table, with his unlit cigarette.“What next? We could watch the Boondock Saints, I know ye like it, though it’s a fecking crock of shite if you ask me.That they had the gall to bring Billy Connolly into that mess is bad enough, but to have him in the sequel is worse. But you’re me best mate, you know, so if you want to watch it, who am I to say no to ye?” Cass’s eyes were bright with a manic light, and his fingers moved as if he still held the lighter in his hands. He was a lazy, self-indulgent addict without a single redeeming quality that anyone could tell but he adored Jesse and that shit went straight to Jesse’s head like the purest cocaine.

He shoved Cass’s feet onto the floor again, leaned over and kissed him hard.

There were teeth, and bony knees pressing the buttons of his clergy shirt into his skin, and the scent of weed and whisky rose up between them.Jesse breathed Cass in like incense, and overcome with nerves, with lust, with shame, pressed his head against the skin exposed in the ragged shirt Cassidy was wearing and ground his teeth.

“I knew you had shite taste in films, padre, but I had no idea it got yer motor goin’ in that way, if you know what I mean?”

Jesse groaned. “Shut up, Cassidy.”

“Look, I’m not judgin’ ye, I’m just saying, it’s the accent, isn’t it? Happens all the time. Maybe not to me, so much but ye know, blokes-“

“Shut up.And take off your clothes.”

The flow of Cassidy’s chatter shut off like a faucet.He tasted blood in his mouth, he had stopped talking that quick. There had been a painful growl to Jesse’s words, they were only words, not the compulsion to shake the foundations of the earth that had driven him into a wall at Jess’s command.Cassidy sat up, spilling Jess against the cushions of the couch, a truly splendid piece of 1970s decor, and did they not treat their rectors like absolute shite here?Get the man a feckin’ reclining chair, at least, he’s a man of the cloth!Jess fell back as if stunned, breathing raggedly, his hair mussed all about his forehead like a fecking rock-star.Cassidy would die for him, gladly, and praise his best mate to St. Pete at the pearly gates.

He grabbed the neck of his grubby t-shirt, and hauled it over his head.Keeping his eyes locked on Jess, he hooked his thumbs into the band of his sweatpants and skimmed them down over his gaunt hips.He didn’t have any underwear on. Jesse closed his eyes and breathed hard, but he could smell him still, blood and sweat, and booze, and something else he couldn’t place, but he would bathe in before the night was over. 

A touch on his chin startled Jesse into opening his eyes.Cassidy was unbuttoning his shirt with a glaze-eyed focus, curled protectively over his erection as his long fingers nimbly undid the small clasps, drew the collar off and threw it to the floor. Jesse shoved him back, hard enough to see Cass’s head bounce off the arm-rest and jerked his belt off with shaking hands. Cass’s look of absolute trust, something he didn’t deserve and could never earn in a million lifetimes, filled Jesse’s veins with a red-hot fury.He barely got his pants over the curve of his ass before he fell on Cassidy like a starving man.

“I s’pose if this is part of God’s plan for ye, he can’t be all bad,” Cassidy said softly.His next words were cut off by a ragged gasp as Jesse muscled Cass’s long legs back and plunged his cock into Cassidy’s narrow ass. 

Jesse buried his teeth into the lean line of muscle between Cass’s neck and shoulder, as Cass’s dick between them left a long, slick line in the fur of his stomach.The part of Jesse that belonged to his father still tallied “fucking a man” to the long list of sins Jesse carried in his mental back pocket, but the bulk of him was narrowed to the searing molten line of lust that carved a painful path from his cock up his spine, and exploded in the base of his brain.Cass shuddered in his arms like he was about to fly apart, and Jess the only thing holding him together.

“Why?” Jesse cried, driving into him. Sweat poured down the crack of his ass, stung his eyes.“Why me?”

Cassidy started to laugh.He couldn’t help it.He was so close to the edge - but the despair in this black devil of a man in a preacher suit, like a wolf among the lambs, an innocent by vampire standards.The laughter just made Jess angrier, and the couch creaked beneath them.Cassidy thought of Emily asking him to fix it the next day, and couldn’t stop laughing, which drew him slowly away from the brink of coming in seconds like a teenager.

“Stop laughing!” Jesse wasn’t crying.He wasn’t. Custers don’t cry. He drew away, and Cass whimpered, eyes flying open in concern.But Jesse wasn’t done yet. He rolled Cassidy over and, seizing him by the hips, slammed into him.Cass let out a strangled cry, a moan of pain and pleasure that ran from Jesse’s scalp to his balls, which drew up tight at the sound. He laid his head against Cass’s sweaty back.

“Fuck… you…” Jesse said.

“Ye’re… doing a pretty good job already.”

Jesse suddenly couldn’t bear to not see his face.With a roar, Jesse grabbed Cass round the waist, and pulled him to the floor with a bone-jarring thump. He pinned Cass down by the shoulders, and the hardwood floor bruised his knees, but he didn’t flinch as he stared into Cass’s green eyes.Jesse leaned over, feeling Cass’s cock hard against his belly, and spoke the words.

> _**“ Now come.”** _

Cassidy’s fingers left bloody scores on Jess’s back, leaving new scars between the old ragged ones as he came, the words a hook deep in his balls, dragging him hot and shaking and not altogether unwilling to orgasm, like being turned inside out on a grill under the boiling noon sun.Cassidy burst into flames, and withered to ash, and sifted to the ground under the blazing gaze of the preacher who owned him, body and soul.

Jesse couldn’t watch Cass fall to pieces without feeling the skip and stutter in his own pulse, and let go just enough to explode himself, deep inside, a soul-wrenching groan accompanying his orgasm, like the death of a condemned man.He fell across Cass’s supine form, semen pooling between them, and lay like the dead.Only the rise and fall of his back, still bloody under Cassidy’s fingers, and the thump of hot blood in his veins told him Jess was still alive.Finally, Jesse stirred, his breath cool against the drying sweat of Cassidy’s neck.

“Besides, I wanna watch the Big Lebowski.”


End file.
